


George and The Dreamcatchers

by Ship_On_The_Sea



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Band Fic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ship_On_The_Sea/pseuds/Ship_On_The_Sea
Summary: George, fresh out of college and attempting to fit into an office job, gets thrown into the lives of the members of an aspiring band, and finds just what he needs in the world to keep him on his toes. (ON HOLD/DISCONTINUED)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 138





	1. It Started on a Weekend in May

**Author's Note:**

> I originally got the idea for this fic thanks to this Tumblr post: (https://myrandom-fandomlife.tumblr.com/post/639231935900712960)
> 
> And to avoid any confusion, here's a quick little list of who does what in the band (The Dreamcatchers)  
> Dream: leader, lead vocalist and guitarist, also the band's manager  
> Bad: backup vocalist and bass guitarist  
> Quackity: backup vocalist and second guitarist  
> Sapnap: drumist, minor vocal role  
> Ant: keyboardist, minor vocal role  
> Karl: assistant manager, helps around with whatever he can
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this, I've actually got the entire fic planned and I'm really excited to write it! I also ask for comments on this, because seeing positive and support comments are really the backbone of how I'm able to write as much as I do, and I really want to stay motivated to finish this
> 
> The song that's played in this chapter is "English Love Affair" by 5 Seconds of Summer (I actually based Dream's band off of them slightly)

George would say he was having an interesting evening currently. And by interesting, he really meant boring, because he was currently standing outside one of the local restaurants scattered near his apartment, leaning against the brick wall scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting for his supposed date to arrive.

In all honesty, he wasn’t too excited for the date. It was only to get his parents off his back, anyways. George had no intentions for a relationship as far as he was concerned.

The slamming of a car door brought George’s attention away from his phone, and he saw a familiar face approach him, dressed up nice.

It was Minx, his “date”. Giving a friend smile and nod, he pocketed his phone, and gave a polite wave to his old friend.

“Hey Minx,” he greeted. He was met with an amused smile from Minx, who eyed him up and down.

“What, didn’t feel like dressin’ up tonight?” George shrugged, looking down at his jeans and the light gray, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

“I just didn’t feel like it.” George got off the wall he was leaning on, and the pair made their wave towards the front door of the establishment.

“For shame,” Minx joked, and clapped her hand on his shoulder. “Y’never know, you could meet the love of your life or somethin’ in this place, and here you are dressed up like you’ve gone to the fuckin’ park.”

George faked offense at her joke, rolling his eyes sarcastically, and held the door open for Minx when they reached it.

“Seriously though, you look fuckin’ stunnin’ when you’re dressed up,” she commented as she walked inside, “The amount of girls at our school who had a crush on ya after seein’ you dressed up that one night was fuckin’ insane.”

George felt himself fluster slightly. “Thanks, Minx.”

“No problem.” They paused their conversation to let a waiter lead them to a table, but it resumed once they sat down.

“So, what have you been up to since we last talked to each other?” George asked, wanting to catch up on his old highschool friend.

“Well,” Minx began, and let a short pause fill the conversation before continuing, as if she was debating something to herself. “Got a job that makes me happy, and I’ve been datin’ this girl I met at college for like t’ree years now.”

“Oh, congrats,” George interrupted, surprised. “I didn’t know you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s the fuckin’ best. Parents don’t know though, that’s why I agreed to help ya out. They’ve been on my fuckin’ neck these past couple months tryin’ to get me to go on a date, so this is as much as a win for me as it is to you.”

“Oof, I hope this helps get them off you,” George sympathized. Minx nodded, grateful.

After that, their conversation remained uneventful throughout the “date”, only picking up when they made fun of each other’s food choices. But other than that, it was calm, and almost boring, George finding himself growing less and less interested in their small talk as the evening progressed.

It was during one of the many lapses of silence between George and Minx that George’s boredom was cured, in the form of hearing something heavy hit the floor and someone yell.

Turning to see the noise, George noticed two young men picking up a keyboard from the ground, and walking it up onto the small stage on the back wall of the restaurant.

“I think a band’s playing tonight,” he commented offhandedly to Minx, and continued observing, his curiosity growing.

It wasn’t uncommon for the quaint restaurant to host aspiring bands during their lunch and dinner rushes, the owner and both managers having connections to the music industry and having an appreciation for small, undiscovered bands. George couldn’t count how many performances he’d attended just by eating out with friends at the establishment.

As the two young men set the keyboard up, George noticed the set of drums towards the back of the stage, and his curiosity peaked. He couldn’t remember the last time there was a band that performed with drums.

Another young man jumped on stage as George finished his thought, and he watched with growing amusement as the new arrival seemed to tell off his associates for dropping the poor keyboard, smiles on all three of their faces (He also could have sworn who heard one of the three yell “I’m just excited!”, but there was too much white noise from people talking around him to have been sure).

George’s attention was stolen from the three as his waiter approached the table to take away his and Minx’s empty plates and ask if they wanted dessert or the check. After a brief exchange, they agreed to skip dessert, and the waiter left to grab the check.

“Do you want to split it, or should I pay for both of us?” George asked.

“I can pay for myself, you bastard,” Minx replied lightheartedly, “I’m not broke y’know!”

George snorted, rolling his eyes, and resettled his attention back on the stage, where he found that there were more people on there than last time, and that one of the people carrying the keyboard was nowhere to be found. He also found he recognized one of the people on stage as one of the managers, a man his age named Wilbur. He was currently standing in front of the stage, holding a microphone.

“Hello everyone!” Wilbur suddenly greeted the customers seated in the restaurant, and all conversation stalled to observe what the man was wanting. He gave everyone a warm smile, and continued to speak.

“Now, I know usually I don’t introduce the bands playing here, because you can find the names on a list by the front door, but-” Wilbur paused for dramatic effect. “- I personally know the members of this band! They were my friends when I lived in America.” George felt his curiosity spike as Wilbur continued talking. The band was from America? What were they doing here?

“Anyways!” Wilbur called out loudly, pulling George from his thoughts, “I am proud to introduce all my wonderful patrons to The Dreamcatchers!” A few of the customers politely clapped as Wilbur practically jumped off the stage and jogged off, and George watched him go, wondering about his past with the people about to play for everyone.

“Hi guys,” an American accent suddenly sounded from the stage, and George’s eyes snapped to the stage to see who had begun to speak. It was a young man, like the rest of the band. However, out of the five currently on stage, he was the only blonde, and towered over the two he stood by. From the distance, George couldn’t make out too many of his features, or any of the band members’, but he was able to take in their shirts, which were different colors but with the same symbol of a dreamcatcher on their chests. “I’m Dream, the leader of The Dreamcatchers.” He smiled, and even from across the establishment, George felt himself hyperfocus on the blonde, his interest growing for reasons he didn’t quite understand or notice.

Dream, dressed in a yellowish shirt, motioned to his left, where a kind-looking man was holding a bass guitar, his shirt a brownish color. “This is Bad.”

Bad leaned into the mic Dream was holding. “Hello!”

As Bad leaned away, Dream motioned to his right, where an excited man in yellow was standing, holding an electric guitar. “This is Quackity.” George recognized him as one of the two who set up the keyboard.

Quackity ripped the mic out of Dream’s hand and jumped up and down like a little kid. “HELLLLLO ENGLAND!” he screamed, and was knocked upside the head by Bad, who gave him a look as he grumpily handed the microphone back to Dream.

“I’m sorry,” Dream said, and laughed lightly into the mic. Unconsciously, George shifted to the edge of his seat, planting his chin on his hand, a smile beginning to grow on his face. He liked that noise.

Minx noticed it, of course, and did her best to hide a snicker as the band continued to introduce its members.

“Behind me on the drums is Sapnap,” Dream continued, pausing until the young man wearing another yellowish color shouted a quick “Hi!” into the crowd before continuing, “And on the keyboard is Ant.” Instead of speaking like the rest of his bandmates, the man dressed in light blue only waved, stationed to the right of Sapnap’s drums.

“This evening we’ll be playing some covers of a few songs, and I really hope everyone enjoys them, because this is our first time performing in front of an audience that doesn’t personally know us.” A shy chuckle fell out of the blonde’s mouth as he handed the microphone to Bad, and George watched, intrigued, as Dream picked a guitar up off the ground and strung it around him, the instrument’s appearance similar to Quackity’s own guitar. Bad quickly placed the microphone on the stand in front of Dream before backing off to stand beside him, and then, everything went quiet.

Surrounded by anticipated silence, Dream looked at his bandmates, and nodded briefly before tapping his foot rhythmically against the stage floor. Moments later, Sapnap began playing the drums, beginning the first song.

Someone far off from behind George apparently recognized the song and hollered out in approval as the rest of the instruments started to join in, and Dream approached the mic stand, taking a visibly deep breath in.

“It started on a weekend in May,” Dream began to sing, earning cheers from a handful of other people as more people recognized the song. George, however, wasn’t cheering, but staring in shock at Dream, his suave and sultry voice making him feel nervous and excited simultaneously. 

Dream continued to sing, a smile blooming on his face from the positive cheers and shouts, some even clapping along to the beat. “I was looking for attention, needed intervention. Felt somebody looking at me. With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection.”

Suddenly, Bad strutted up to the mic stand, and joined in on the singing. “The way she looked was so ridiculous, every single step had me waiting for the next.” Bad’s addition went unnoticed by George, however, too focused on Dream’s voice to realize another had joined. “Before I knew it, it was serious, dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car.”

The instrumental picked up as the band launched into the chorus, and Sapnap and Quackity’s voices joined the fray. “When the lights go out, she’s all I ever think about!” George couldn’t help but tap his fingers to the beat of the song, his index finger gently tapping against his skin as his hand continued to cradle his face. Infatuated, he couldn’t help but get lost in the band’s performance. “The picture burning in my brain- Kissing in the rain- I can’t forget my English love affair!

“Today, I’m seven thousand miles away! The movie playing in my head of her king-sized bed means I can’t forget my English love affair, my English love affair!”

All but Quackity’s voice dropped to continue to the second verse, but George kept his eyes glued to Dream, mindlessly watching him passionately strum his guitar and move from foot-to-foot as if he was doing a small dance. His eyes still remained on Dream when Bad rejoined Quackity for the second pre-chorus, watching as his guitar-playing got more excited as the two surrounding him sang together, before all the band members came together to sing the chorus again.

“When the lights go out, she’s all I ever think about! The picture burning in my brain- Kissing in the rain- I can’t forget my English love affair!” Dream’s strumming became more dramatic as they got into the chorus together, and George felt that his heart rate was higher than it was minutes prior, but took no conscious observation of it, too focused on the blonde man singing across the room from him. “Today, I’m seven thousand miles away! The movie playing in my head of her king-sized bed means I can’t forget my English love affair!”

The song and all white noise began to fade from George’s conscious mind as he practically zoned out, all of his attention centered on Dream. Although he could still hear the music, he wasn’t listening to it, paying no mind to it. He was just staring, in awe and stupefied. Because before him was something, someone he’d never experienced before. A man, strumming a guitar like it was his last night alive, moving like the music was engraved in his bones and part of him, feeling his happiness and joy from so far away. George wanted nothing more than to get closer, to reach out and tap into this stranger’s ecstasy and be a part of it, and to know just exactly who this person is.

“George!” The sudden shout from Minx startled him, and George blinked rapidly, shaking his head. He turned to look at his friend, and found her staring at him, a white check in between them.

“When did that get there?” he asked, and Minx shot him a look of disbelief.

“Like… Five minutes ago,” she replied. “Dude, you fuckin’ sat there unmoving for like ten fuckin’ minutes and band’s been done for like two, what the actual fuck were you doin’?”   
George ducked his head, embarrassed and confused at himself. “I… I don’t really know.”

“Really? Because it looked to me like you were ooglin’ the blonde guy that was up there singin’.”

“I..” George trailed off, unsure if he could save himself. Minx sat back, satisfied with her friend not fighting back against the accusation.

“Don’t worry, I t’ink he was starin’ back at ya.”

“What?” Minx cackled loudly at George’s panicked expression, clapping her hands together.

“Fuck yeah! At least, he was starin’ over here a lot, and we’re like the only two fuckin’ people over in this part of the room.”

“What if he was staring at you? Or at an object?” George didn’t want to consider the fact that Minx could be telling the truth.

“I fuckin’ doubt that guy was starin’ at me or some random ass object.” George remained silent at her reply, staring blankly at the table between them, and Minx sighed heavily at the poor man in front of her. “I t’ink you should go talk to him. At least tell them you enjoyed the performance of somethin’.”

“Should I?” 

“I will go up there and physically drag their asses over to this table if you don’t get up right fuckin’ now, George.”

Knowing Minx is too chaotic of a person to fake her threats, George wordlessly rose from the table and stood, looking around to see if he could spot any of the band members. Thankfully, he recognized the brownish shirt of Bad, and began to nervously approach the man.

“Hello?” George greeted quietly when he knew he was in range of Bad hearing, and watched as the king-looking man spun around and beamed a smile at him.

“Hi!”

“You’re part of the band, right?” George nervously asked, looking for some sort of an icebreaker.

“Yeah! I’m Bad!” Bad introduced himself, and held out a hand for George to shake. Awkwardly, George extended his arm and grasped the free hand, giving it a curt shake. “What’s your name?”

“I’m George,” he replied, glancing at the white dreamcatcher on Bad’s shirt. Now that he was closer, he noticed that in the center of the design sat a small smiley face. “I love the shirt design, by the way.”

“Thanks, I designed it.” George felt his soul try to leave his body as he jumped, startled, and spun around to identify the culprit of his attempted-heart attack, his eyes being met with yellowish eyes and a small smile.

Of course, it was Dream.

George felt himself trip over his thoughts as he tried to get a hold of himself. “Uhm- compliments to the chef?”

Mortification set fast into the very core of his being as his brain registered the words that just came out of his mouth, eyes going wide in embarrassment, but it was too late to change them, the damage had already been done.

“Chef?!” Dream questioned, incredulous, before a large grin broke out onto his face, and he started to laugh loudly, the laugh turning into a mirthful wheeze. 

“Oh my goodness,” Bad said quietly, covering his face with a hand as he watched his friend die of laughter, George looking like all his hopes and dreams had been crushed. They stood like that for a minute as Dream calmed down and regained his composure.

“That’s the hardest I’ve laughed today,” Dream commented after he’d recovered, “Oh my god.”

“In my defense, I didn’t mean to say that,” George defended. “You just scared me and I couldn’t think.”

“Don’t worry, I say dumb stuff like that all the time, just ask Bad,” Dream replied, and stuck out his hand for a greeting. “I’m Dream, but you probably already know that.”

For the second time within the span of five minutes, George grabbed a stranger’s hand and gave it a quick shake, silently wondering if it was just common for them where they live. “I’m George.”

“It’s nice to meet you, George,” Dream replied, smiling, “Are you from around here?”

“Yes?” George answered, confused. “Obviously?” He heard movement from behind him, and with a quick glance George found Bad moving away from them, heading back towards the stage where Sapnap was waving him down.

Dream shrugged. “I’m shit with icebreakers, that was the wrong thing to ask.” He laughed lightly at his comment, George laughing along with him. 

“I, uh, really enjoyed your performance, by the way,” George decided to compliment, sending Dream a shy smile, and was met with an ecstatic one, along with an excited gasp.

“Our first British fan!” Dream commented, and George snorted.

“What about Wilbur?”

“He doesn’t count, he’s stinky.” As soon as the sentence registered to George, he started to laugh uncontrollably, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What? It’s true, he’s a stinky old man.” George laughed harder at the statement, Dream beginning to wheeze himself.

“You can’t call him a stinky old man,” George tried to defend the unaccounted manager, small huffs of laughing interrupting his words, “You never know, he could be the manager of The Dreamcatchers or something.”

Dream laughed smugly at that, almost puffing his chest out with a show of pride. “Actually, I’m the manager.”

George’s eyes grew wide briefly with surprise. “Oh, I thought you were just the leader.”

“No, I’m the manager.” His smile grew. “I do have an assistant manager, his name’s Karl.” George thought back to the two who were carrying the keyboard- Quackity, and someone that hadn’t been introduced when the band began to play, wearing a blue shirt similar to the one Ant was wearing.

“Oh, is he the one in the blue shirt?” George asked, and Dream looked at him in confusion.

“Ant’s the one in blue; Karl’s wearing purple.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was purple, I thought it was blue.”

Dream continued to look confused, until his face suddenly relaxed into recognition moments later. “Oh, are you colorblind?”

George ducked his head sheepishly, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a strong protan.”

“Must be interesting to see colors differently than a lot of people,” Dream casually replied, casting a thoughtful look around the room before adding, “Karl’s a mild protan.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” George smiled, happy to know there was someone else in the building who could relate to some of his colorblind troubles.

“Of course you didn’t know that, you just met us.”

It took George a moment to realize why Dream had said then, and when he did he felt himself start to laugh lightly, a joking “Fuck off” instinctively falling from his mouth.

“Nice to know someone finally appreciates my jokes around here,” Dream continued to joke, “The amount of times Sapnap’s threatened to punch me in the face.”

“Wow, that sounds a little violent.”

“We’re basically brothers, it’s just the Cain Instinct talking.”

“That  _ what _ ?” George started snickering uncontrollably. “What the hell is  _ that _ ?”

“It’s when you want to beat the shit out of your siblings,” Dream replied, face struggling to remain neutral. “Like that Cain and Abel story.”

“Oh,” George said, thinking about the story Dream was referring to, and started to laugh harder when memories of learning about the story in school came back to him. “Oh!”

They shared an amused laugh together before George continued their conversation.

“It must be fun being the manager of your own band, I’m just stuck in an office job right now handling company finances.”

“I mean,” Dream began, his voice toeing the line between joking and genuine, “The Dreamcatchers  _ are  _ looking for a finance manager, you could always quit.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” George joked, not having taken a moment of consideration in the offer, taking it as a full joke, “Maybe if you ask me later I’ll take up your offer.”

Dream shrugged in a gesture that meant no offense was taken, and George missed the way Dream’s shoulders dropped in an almost disappointed manner.

“Dream! Stop fucking socializing and help us!” came the sudden yell from behind George, and he turned around to see Quackity quickly approached them, hearing someone yell “Language!” as he drew closer.

Latching onto his arm, George could only watch as Quackity started yanking Dream back over to the stage where his bandmates were finishing up unloading their instruments off the stage, Quackity ignoring the frantic words from Dream that mostly consisted of “Let go!” and “Give me two minutes!”

“Well, that was fun,” George commented to himself when he was left alone. He wished he could have talked to Dream more as he began his walk back to his table, where he’d left Minx.

But upon looking at the table, he noticed the absence of the woman, and he approached the table in confusion, wondering where she went.

Waiting for him was the receipt of the dinner they shared, with writing scribbled on the back in pen.

‘I paid for your shit, you better pay me back’, it read, ‘You better enjoy that too, you bastard, you looked bored out of your mind talking to me”.

George blinked once, twice, and then smiled at the note Minx had left. That was nice of her. He skimmed the words again, and stuffed the paper into the pocket of his pants, making a mental note to shoot her a text of gratitude when he got back to his apartment as he left the restaurant.

He hoped she’d be happy to hear that he did indeed enjoy himself, and that he hoped somehow, someday, he’d run into a specific blonde again.

The cool London air hit George’s face as he felt happy to have gotten to meet the man he’d supposedly stared at for ten minutes straight, blissfully ignoring the part of him that for some reason felt disappointed, and a little sad.

  
  



	2. I Don't Want To Kill My Time With Somebody Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By either coincidence or fate, George runs into a certain someone at the local coffee shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of this chapter is from "Kill My Time" by 5sos, I kinda plan for all the chapter titles to be from songs from them if I can find lyrics that I think match the chapter
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Sorry it's a little shorter than the first, this chapter is really just meant for George and Dream to get to know each other more to establish a friendship that can actually progress throughout the rest of the story :)  
> Also, quick note: I wanted to kinda incorporate the fact Dream has ADHD in this, so I’ve included some extra movement in between lines of dialogue to kinda emphasize him moving a lot more than George. I really hope I’ve written it accurately, and if I haven’t, I would love for someone to comment on ways for me to better help convey what I want to show without making it seem unrealistic.
> 
> edit: I originally thought Karl was like 19-20 but I just found out he's 22 so I quickly went in here and changed some background information to try and keep it as realistic as possible. Honestly idk why I didn't just google it to make sure beforehand lmao

George was standing in line at the coffee shop not too far from his apartment, scrolling on his phone like he had done every Sunday morning since he moved in and discovered the homey place, with its wooden floor and warm-colored walls that George assumed were supposed to be a light, desaturated red. He was currently rereading the texts Minx and himself exchanged the night before after he’d gotten home, smiling half-hearted at all the curses his friend managed to put into one line of text. Of course, she was happy to hear that his night had gone well getting to chat with the man he’d stared at, but quickly turned to hot-tempered anger when he mentioned how they had parted, Minx upset that he at least didn’t get the guy’s number. And to be honest, George was a little disappointed as well. He really wished there was a way he could talk to him more.

He was too engrossed with his phone to take in the sound of the front door being opened, the gentle chime of a bell signaling the motion. He hadn’t even realized someone had come in behind him until a voice spoke up from behind me, sounding vaguely familiar and pleasantly surprised. “No way.”

George looked behind him instinctively before he could truly process the voice, and he was greeted with the smiling face of Dream.

Filled with shock, George could only stare with wide eyes for a few moments, before an uncontrollable smile took his face. “Hello.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

“I didn’t think I’d run into you here,” Dream began, and he walked up to stand beside George. George turned back around to the front of the line, pocketing his phone, and gave a soft laugh.

“I didn’t think I’d run into you here either.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think we’d ever run into each other again,” Dream continued, and a quizzical look sprung onto George’s face. He didn’t think the other cared too much if he would ever see him again.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun talking to you last night.”

“Oh,” George softly replied, starting to feel guilty that he hadn’t stuck around long enough to have gotten Dream’s phone number, now knowing he wasn’t the only one who wanted to get to know the other better. “I did too, actually.”

“Then why did you leave without a goodbye?” Dream questioned, his expression showing a faint level of sadness, and George shrugged. They moved up a space in line before George replied.

“Well, we’re strangers, and I thought I was intruding if I stayed.” 

‘And I didn’t think you were interested in me personally,’ was the unsaid thought.

“We could change that.”

“What?”

“We don’t have to be strangers, we could become friends if you’d like,” Dream offered, a warm yet nervous smile working its way on his face. “That is, if you’re up for that.”

George was speechless. Dream wanted to be friends with him?

Dream stepped forward in line, looking at him with growing nervousness. “If you don’t wan-”

“No!” George stuttered out quickly, “I’d like to become friends with you, I’m just surprised.” He followed Dream and also stepped forward.

“Oh, okay.” Dream gave a light laugh, his nervousness melting off him. “Good. I got worried for a second.”

“I could tell,” George joked, and Dream snickered at it while George opened up another conversation. “So, why are you here anyways? There’s a lot of coffee shops in this area.”

“The motel we’re staying in is pretty close,” Dream replied. “What about you? Why are _you_ here?”

“My apartment isn’t too far from here,” George said. “Besides, the coffee here tastes better.”

Dream’s nose scrunched up in slight distaste. “I don’t like coffee that much, it messes with my stomach a little.”

“Well that’s not good,” George commented on the confession. “Luckily, this place serves juice and tea too.”

“Oh, that’s good to know.” Dream smiled. “I honestly didn’t come in here to get something, I just thought it looked interesting.”

“Oh, I thought you were on a coffee run for the squad, or something.”

Dream began laughing. “Squad?”

“Yeah, you and the squad.” They moved up together in the line, now almost to the front. “Squad goals.” Dream’s laughter picked up slightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” he joked, and George smiled, rolling his eyes. He was glad they ran into each other again.

“So, how did you guys all meet anyways?”

“It’s quite a story.”

“I think we have time.”

“How about after we get something?”

“I’m good with that.” Coincidentally, as the conversation lulled to a pause, the person in front of them moved, and they were finally to the front of the line. Immediately, George began ordering his sugary concoction of a drink, while Dream hesitated for a few moments before ordering a small bottle of apple juice and a scone after spotting the small pastry stand beside the cashier with curious delight. 

The cashier rang them up separately but simultaneously, and as George pulled out his wallet and dug around for the correct change, Dream suddenly froze and uttered a quiet, nervous “Shit”.

Having heard it, George turned to Dream, concerned. “What?”

“I only have American currency in my wallet, Karl has all the British currency on him because he paid for our dinner last night.”

George grimaced in second-hand embarrassment, and glanced at what Dream’s total was. “It’s only a couple of pounds, I can pay for it.”

“You don’t have to,” Dream guiltily began, but George shook his head and slid out the proper amount of bills from his wallet.

“No, it’s the least I can do for a friend.” He gave a shy, testing smile at Dream, eyes anticipatedly locked onto his own, trying to read his reaction.

Any further argument from Dream deflated as he rubbed his arm sheepishly. “Yeah, guess you’re right with that.” Satisfied and happy with the reaction, George’s smile became one of relief and happiness, and he gladly finished paying for both of their things, ushing his new friend to one of the small nearby tables.

“Thanks for paying for me,” Dream said gratefully as they sat down. He looked a little embarrassed. “I’ll try to pay you back sometime.”

“It was only, like, two pounds, you don’t have to,” George replied.

“But I want to.”

George paused, thinking for a moment. “Well, can’t really argue with that.” He chuckled lightly and watched Dream pick up the scone George had paid for, taking a cautious bite before his face slightly lit up with a positive reaction.

“This is pretty good,” he said around a mouthful of food. George laughed at the childish act, before remembering what they’d been talking about earlier.

“Oh yeah, weren’t you going to tell me about how you met your bandmates?”

“Oh yeah!” Dream replied, smiling and putting his scone down to wipe his hands on his pants in an instinctive manner. He shifted, getting more comfortable, and grabbed the small bottle of apple juice he got, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip before screwing the cap back on and putting it back on the table. Dream then took a small breath, comfortably crossed his arms, and began talking.

“So, me and Sapnap actually grew up together basically; we’ve been friends since we were little kids,” Dream started, “I also know Karl and Quackity from when we were all kids, but I met them a little later because we all went to the same school. We all had a similar interest in music, and one day in middle school we decided that if we all were still friends in high school, we would create a band.

“Of course, we were still friends by the time we all reached highschool, so during my junior year and their freshman year, we created The Dreamcatchers.” Dream paused, drumming his fingers on top of the table in thought for a moment, before adding, “We actually didn’t come up with the name until my senior year. It was also the same year Bad and Ant joined the band.” George nodded, signalling Dream to go on, interested in what he was saying, and Dream happily continued.

“Bad actually grew up with me and Sapnap, but moved when I was in seventh grade-”

“Isn’t that year seven here?” George interrupted, and he felt the table they were sat at start to shake ever-so-slightly as Dream began to bounce his leg, the top of his thigh barely managing to brush against the bottom of the table, his eyebrows scrunched faintly with thought.

“I think so?” Dream replied, before giving George a half-shrug and continuing on with his story. “Anyways, Bad moved back right as my senior year started, and as we were catching up I mentioned The Dreamcatchers to him and he wanted to join because he had recently learned how to play bass guitar and thought it would be fun to play in it for a while. Obviously, he liked it more than he thought he would.” George giggled slightly at the comment, taking a sip from his coffee as Dream did the same with his juice.

“What about Ant?” George asked when he put his drink down, and Dream nodded as he placed his drink back down as well, swallowing the beverage he had in his mouth.

“Well, it’s kinda similar to Bad,” Dream replied. “He moved into town during my senior year- right after we came up with the name, actually- and he joined after becoming friends with Bad and meeting us through him.”

“Wow, that’s pretty interesting,” George commented, smiling. “How long have all of you been together now?”

“Around three years.” Dream picked up his scone and took another bite, his leg bouncing increasing as he enjoyed the treat and conversation.

“Oh, so you’re twenty-one?”

“Yeah. Sapnap and Quackity are younger than me, and Bad, Karl, and Ant are older.”

“I thought you were older than me, to be honest.”

A surprised look crossed Dream’s face. “You’re older than me?”

“Yeah, I’m twenty-four.”

“No way.”

George started laughing, “Yes way.”

“You’re so short, though.”

“I’m average height,” George quickly defended himself, not feeling offended in the slightest. “I don’t want to hear it from your… bigfoot-looking self.”

“Fuck you, that hurt,” Dream joked, and the conversation took a breather as George drank the rest of his coffee and Dream downed the rest of his scone.

“How long are you guys staying in England?” George asked, curious.

“Nine more days,” Dream replied.

“Planning to sight-see any?”

“We won’t have time.” Dream paused for a moment before continuing. “I’d love to come back here for a vacation or something so I could, though.”

“I could be your tour guide,” George offered.

“And I could be yours if you ever decide to tour Florida,” Dream offered in return.

“Oh, you’re from Florida?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be crazy.”

“Oh my god, it is. You should hear some of the stuff that’s happened.” George felt himself grin.

“I’d love to.” 

Dream opened his mouth to reply, probably to launch into another story, when he suddenly froze for a moment, before he reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, which was vibrating. He looked at the screen and George saw a look cross Dream’s face that was best described as someone getting caught red-handed for doing something they knew they weren’t supposed to do.

“Hello?” Dream answered what George assumed to be a phone call, and they sat in silence, Dream listening to the caller and George waiting patiently for it to be over. 

Dream scrunched up his nose at the person on the other side of the call. “I’m not that far, why?” A lengthy pause. “Really? I thought that was later-” Another pause. “Bad, I’m literally like ten minutes away hold your horses.” A short pause, and Dream was suddenly raising his voice. “Fine! I’m heading back right now!” He then ended the call, and sighed in disappointment.

“So..?” George hesitantly asked.

“Bad’s wanting me to come back to the motel, we’re supposed to be going to our next concert destination today and seeing if everything works before our next concert.”

“When is your next content?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Oh, sweet.” After a moment, a sudden idea struck George. “Can I have the details? I want to see if I can come after work.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dream replied, and they both paused for a few seconds, thinking.

“Do you want to just text me?” George offered.

“Yeah, what’s your number?”

Quickly, George took his phone out of his pocket and opened his contact list, before finding his own number. After listing it off for Dream, he suddenly got a notification of an incoming text, and smiled when he realized Dream had sent it, saving his number to his phone.

“Well, I have to go run now before I get murdered and left in an alley,” Dream jokingly stated, and rose from the table, grabbing his juice and the paper wrapper the scone came in. George rose from the table as well, grabbing his empty cup of coffee. “It was nice running into you again, George.”

“It was nice seeing you again, Dream,” George replied. “Don’t forget to text me about the concert details when you can.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll see you too,” was the final thing Dream said to George before walking away, quickly throwing his trash into the bin beside the door and literally running outside and down the sidewalk. George followed his actions moments later, albeit slower.

George hoped Dream’s friends weren’t too mad at him. After all, Dream did get some free food and a new friend.

George left the coffee shop with a soft smile, silently wondering if he’d be able to attend The Dreamcatcher’s next concert, happy he was somehow able to cross paths with Dream again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr btw, it's squishyyyghost (I also have a twitter for my ao3/wattpad account, it's Ship_On_The_Sea lmao)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are greatly appreciated, have a good day/night!


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